


Cosmic

by liobi



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: F/M, Failed Relationships, Gen, M/M, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:37:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liobi/pseuds/liobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes vacations now. She'll always be there, there will always be coffee, and they will always get lattes. Everything else is negotiable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cosmic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortheloveofpizza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofpizza/gifts).



He takes vacations now. Every so often a cheap post card will drop through his mail slot with a date on it. A few days later there will be train tickets and a receipt for a hotel reservation. Schenk and Benny don’t ask when he requests time off. 

He gets on the train to Berlin. In a few hours he’s walking through the doors to the hotel and getting his room key. They tell him that his roommate has already arrived. He gives a small nod and thanks them. When he opens the door she’s already adopted the local fashion and is just finishing wrapping a scarf around her neck. She smiles and takes his bags, setting them in one of the bedrooms. “Coffee?” John Luther doesn’t bother to respond as Alice Morgan walks out the door with a fantastic sense of purpose. 

They both order lattes. 

They chat as they wait. Alice politely asks how Mary’s doing, and John answers. John asks where Alice has been, she says Thailand and alludes to starting wars between the Jao Pho and Red Wa, supplying both sides with weapons all the while. The barista comes out and puts their coffee on the table, slipping Alice a scrap of paper. She looks over her shoulder and smiles as she walks away. 

“It seems I have an admirer.” Alice wags the paper with a string of numbers in the air before slipping it in her pocket.

“Alice.”

“What? It’s just a diversion. You don’t think she deserves my attention?” 

“I don’t think anyone deserves your attention.”

Alice pouts, but falls silent. She sips her latte for a bit. “Have you ever been with a man?”

“Once or twice.”

Her lips purse and eyebrows rise just a fraction of an inch. “DS Ripley.” She states it like a fact. John doesn’t contest it.

“We were drinking one night, just busted a big case. Ended up at my place. Couple weeks later we tried again without drinking. It was alright.”

“You weren’t the one who broke it off.” She states another fact.

“Justin called it ‘heteroflexible’. Said it was a good romp, but he didn’t really want more. It had run its course, and we called it off.”

“Smart puppy. Pity about him.”

They pay for their coffee and walk around the city for the rest of the day. When night falls, they head back to their room. Alice has already bought groceries, and John cooks them both dinner while she selects the wine. They eat, barely speaking. After dinner, they sit on the couch reading. Alice, Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, and John, another physics thesis written by Alice under a penname. When the clock strikes midnight, they turn out the lights and begin to retire to their rooms.

John had once remarked that perhaps this is what it would have been like if Holmes and Moriarty had put aside their differences and became friends. Alice disregarded it, saying that what she and he shared was much stronger than that. That they were the moment between which a black hole becomes a star. 

“John.” She states his name as if it were a fact, a single universal constant unalterable by reality.

“Alice.” He states her name the same way. 

She brings his hand up, her palm and fingers pressing against his own. He marvels at how these small hands could topple the world, and she marvels that these weathered hands have held on and will continue to do so until there is no life left.

And without another word, they retire to their rooms as the world outside shifts and changes around them.

**Author's Note:**

> Luther is a very near and dear narrative to my heart, and I'm very glad I've been able to see it from beginning to end.


End file.
